


Misspoken

by ABrighterDarkness



Series: OYL Bingo [10]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkward Steve Rogers, Best Friends, Developing Relationship, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Makeup Sex, Misunderstandings, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Feels, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Use Your Words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:41:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22586533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABrighterDarkness/pseuds/ABrighterDarkness
Summary: He didn’t do these talks very well.  The ones wherefeelingshad to becomewords.He was pretty sure that’s where he messed up with Sam, too, but he couldn’t be sure.
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Series: OYL Bingo [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567447
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62
Collections: On Your Left - SamSteve Bingo





	Misspoken

**Author's Note:**

> On Your Left Bingo - Friends with Benefits

It was meant to be a sweet, affectionate comment. The moment felt perfect for it, sprawled over the bed with Sam still draped across his chest, tucked between his legs, and slowly softening inside his body. Both panting and coming down from what Steve could only classify as truly mindblowing sex. They’d only been doing this, sleeping together literally and metaphorically, just long enough for it to no longer be new and long enough to make Steve ache for every minute of it. Regardless, Steve was more than happy to soak in these moments. Cling to them and embed them so firmly into his memory that he would never lose them. His fingers stroked lightly up and down, tracing over Sam’s spine, delighting in the slight shivers the motion caused.

After a few moments longer, Sam shifted, slowly pulling from Steve’s body and stretching over him to press their lips together. Steve happily sunk into the warm affection. It wasn’t frantic or needy like they had been an hour prior. Instead, Sam kissed slow, deep,and steady. Less desperation and need, more care and...Steve wasn’t sure that he wanted to describe the feeling the kiss drew. He could admit, though, that it was so achingly sweet that Steve felt his chest tighten in response. 

How he’d ever gotten so lucky as to come across Sam Wilson, purely by happenstance, was beyond him but he certainly wasn’t going to complain. 

Sam carefully detangled from his position over Steve and settled instead onto the bed next to him. Steve easily followed the movement, rolling onto his side to face him, shifting closer until they were pressed together once again. There was something about that, the feeling of being pressed so close to Sam like that, skin on skin, that settled Steve’s mind and made his chest warm pleasantly. Sam never said a word about his tendency to cuddle so Steve opted to take that as an open invitation that he frequently--and happily--accepted.

“You know,” Steve said thoughtfully, reaching to drape an arm across Sam’s abdomen where he lay on his back beside him. “When I first woke up, I didn’t really think this sort of thing was possible. For me.”

“This sort of thing?” Sam questioned lazily.

“Mmm,” Steve nodded, nuzzling slightly into his shoulder. “Never thought I’d be lucky enough for a friend and benefits, especially not with someone as incredible as you. I don’t know how I managed to stumble into the most perfect possible outcome purely by happenstance.”

“Wait,” Sam said, brow furrowed with an odd look working its way over his expression. “You said friends with benefits? Really?’

“Yeah,” Steve answered, tilting his head in confusion unsure why the term--which seemed positive when Steve had done a quick search after hearing it--was drawing palpable stiffness into Sam’s previously languid form. 

Sam’s brows furrowed and then shot upwards and he blinked rapidly at the ceiling in silence for a long moment. The longer the silence drew the more Steve began regretting even starting the conversation. Finally, an almost bitter chuckle escaped the man and he shook his head. “Steve, man, I--,” he cut off shaking his head again. “Friends with benefits, huh? Wow.”

Steve felt the familiar coil of rejection burning in his gut and slowly withdrew his arm, swallowing heavily. “I-I,” Steve frowned. “I understand. I’ll-uh-right. I think...I think I should...go?” The last word coming out as a question. He didn’t really want to leave, this time was usually among his top favorites. Just being able to settle in and enjoy Sam’s presence in the afterglow of truly amazing sex was something, he now realized, he had gotten far too used to having. And his big mouth had to go and ruin it.

“Yeah,” Sam said, voice tight and flat. “Yeah, I think that’s probably a good idea.”

“Right,” Steve sighed, eyeing Sam for just a moment longer, taking in the way dark eyes latched to the ceiling, refusing to so much as glance in Steve’s direction. The stiffness along the body that had just spent so much time in, over, and around Steve’s. 

Steve sighed again and climbed off the bed, careful not to jostle it as much as he could. He didn’t look at Sam while he sought out his clothes or as he redressed. Before he reached for the knob of the bedroom door, though, he paused and glanced back hesitantly. Sam still wasn’t looking at him. At some point, he had snagged his own boxers off of the floor and was seated at the edge of the bed, elbows planted on his knees and his eyes locked onto his hands folded in front of him.

“Sam, I--”

“Yeah, it’s fine, Steve,” Sam said dismissively, tone just as flat and devoid of his usual energy. “Just...I’ll call or message you or--or something. Later though.”

“Right,” Steve said again, ducking his head awkwardly as he left the room and then the house, mindful to lock the front door behind him. 

It was odd, Steve realized, leaving Sam’s house, his bed, almost immediately after sex. Unless there was some sort of Avengers emergency, Steve had grown used to falling asleep beside Sam, curled around him on nights like these. He had come to enjoy waking up with him, soft kisses and cuddles and, sometimes yes, more sex. It felt wrong to leave like this. But what else was he supposed to do? Sam told him to go.

So he went. Miserably and entirely unsure what he had done so, so very wrong. But he went.

Almost a week passed and Steve still hadn’t heard anything from Sam. Which was painful in its own right. Sam was more than what they did the nights that Steve managed to stay with him. Sam...Sam was his best friend. One of the few he truly trusted without reserve. Trusted every part of himself with Sam. And now...now Steve realized that whatever mistake he had made, whatever signs he might have misunderstood, might very well have taken that from him. 

Steve was on the verge of just showing back up at Sam’s and doing everything he could--upto and including begging--just for something. Anything. Anything that might give him _some_ idea what they might be able to salvage from this disaster. What part of their friendship he might be able to save. Of course, that’s how and when Natasha managed to find him.

She combed her small fingers through his hair, scratching lightly over his scalp as she passed, circling around the back of the couch until she could drop into the seat next to him. “You’re looking awfully chipper this evening,” she commented, tilting her head in question, brow raised expectantly.

“Yeah. It’s nothing,” Steve dismissed automatically. “I just…”

Natasha gave him the benefit of a long moment to finish the thought. He didn’t. Instead he grimaced and shook his head, he wasn’t going to put this on her. She did more than enough cleaning up his messes, she didn’t need to do this one too. “It’s nothing, Nat,” he repeated. “Nothing you need to be worrying about.”

“Steve,” she urged quietly. When he reluctantly looked up, Natasha gave a slightly unimpressed smile. “If it’s got you this miserable, I’d say it’s not nothing. I’m going to guess that it’s got something to do with Sam. I haven’t seen him in a few days.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Me either. Pretty sure I messed up but I don’t know what I did. Everything was fine, _more than_ fine. And...and then it wasn’t.”

“Tell me,” Natasha said, shifting on the couch until she was leaning comfortably against his side but faced away from him. Steve couldn’t help the rush of affection for the woman that always managed to know him so well. He didn’t do these talks very well. The ones where _feelings_ had to become _words_. He was pretty sure that’s where he messed up with Sam, too, but he couldn’t be sure. But of course, Natasha knew that he would be less capable of discussing those types of things with someone staring expectantly at him.

“I-I’m not sure what happened? Sam and I--we’ve been--,” Steve dropped off, feeling his face heat slightly. He wasn’t embarrassed, not really. He had _loved_ what he and Sam had. And not just the physical aspects. He wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed of that. That didn’t make it any easier to talk about, though.

“Fucking like rabbits? Yeah, I know,” Natasha quipped dryly, amusement so obvious in her tone that Steve didn’t need to be able to see her expression to identify it. “So what happened? Call out the wrong name?”

“What? No! No, of course not,” Steve sputtered, eyes wide as he stared at the head of red curls on his shoulder. He could feel her body shaking slightly against him and he narrowed his eyes slightly. “Oh come on, Nat, this is awkward enough without you laughing at me.” That was only partially true, of course. He loved that Natasha felt comfortable enough around him to laugh freely, even if it was at his expense.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said, voice unsteady as she forced down her amusement. “Continue. You and Sam have been going like bunnies and now you aren’t. What happened?”

“I’m not sure,” Steve sighed, sinking back into the cushions of the couch. “It was after. We were talking, just like normal. And I don’t know. I think that--that maybe I got too attached too quickly? Kinda got kicked out right after that.”

“What?” Natasha said, twisting to look at him incredulously. “Steve, that doesn’t sound like Sam at all. There’s some sort of misunderstanding going on here. Break it down for me. You guys talked?” At Steve’s nod, her eyes narrowed slightly in consideration. “What was said? And spare me the details of the naughty bits. I love you but I really don’t think you want me to have that mental image.”

Steve felt his face heat at that and nudged her gently with his shoulder before sobering and thinking back over the conversation. “It’s just...I was thinking how lucky I was. You know, not even the physical stuff. Just having someone like him, that strong of a friend.”

“Okay, so is that what you said?” She asked.

“Yeah, basically,” Steve shrugged with a frown. “I told him that it was the best possible outcome. That I couldn’t imagine friends and benefits with anyone else.”

Suddenly, Natasha was very, very still, her expression like stone. Steve typically disliked when her expression took on that flat facade outside of an Op, but he had a feeling that in this case, it was the only thing keeping her from laughing outright at him. “Oh. Oh, honey,” she finally said, her voice tightly controlled. “Were those the words you used? Exact words?”

“Uh, yeah, pretty much,” Steve sighed miserably. “I don’t get it, Nat! He’s my best friend, you both are. But Sam’s...Sam’s...I don’t even know how to explain it.”

“Steve, honey, I need you to listen to me,” Natasha said calmly, leaning a little more heavily into his side in comfort. “I found the source of your misunderstanding.”

“Tell me? Please?” Steve asked, trying his hardest to pretend he wasn’t actually begging.

“First, though, I need you to tell me where you heard that term,” she said. “Where the hell did you come across ‘friends with benefits’ to begin with?”

“Uh,” Steve frowned, blinking slightly at the change in direction. “I overheard Tony and Clint talking and the phrase came up. I hadn’t heard it before and I looked it up like I do with everything these days. The thing I found said that it was best friends who did other things too.”

“Oh of course,” Natasha groaned. “Okay, first off, for your sanity and mine, never take off running with anything relationship related that you hear Tony Stark and Clint Barton discussing. Not worth it.”

“I really messed up, didn’t I?” Steve asked miserably at her words. 

“Mmm,” Natasha hummed noncommittally. “Maybe but because it’s you and you’re adorably clueless at the best of times, I’m pretty sure it’s fixable. ‘Friends with benefits’ _is_ friends that ‘do other things, too’. But it’s…” Natasha grimaced slightly, obviously considering how to word her description. “Have you come across the term fuck buddy?”

“Ah, yeah,” Steve nodded, avoiding looking at her and feeling the flush crawling back over him, _again_. “Yeah, I came across that one early on.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Natasha chuckled, clearly picturing the awkward scenario for what it was. “Friends with benefits and fuck buddies are basically the same thing. Two friends who scratch an itch when the need calls for it but are otherwise...unattached.”

When her words settled into his mind, Steve felt his expression and posture drop, his previous flush rushing from his face. Paling quickly enough that he was close to dizzy with it. “Oh fuck,” he managed, carefully shifting Natasha off of him to lean his elbows against is knees and bury his face in his hands. It was no wonder Sam was so upset with him. He could feel Natasha’s small hand rubbing circles over his back and he sighed heavily, dropping his hands between his knees but leaving his head hanging low. “I’ve gotta fix this.”

“Yeah, that would be a good idea,” Natasha agreed quietly. “You’d be surprised how far an apology and an explanation will get you.” Steve nodded slightly in agreement. Obviously, both of those things were on the very tip top of his list of things to do in order to beg Sam’s forgiveness. “And maybe a confession?” Natasha suggested.

Steve sighed at that and sat upright, just enough to check his watch. It was early enough still that he might be able to catch Sam before he was settled in for the night and more inclined to ignore a knock at his door. He turned to meet Natasha’s patient stare and offered a small, grateful smile. He really didn’t know what he would do without her. Forget which way was up more often than not, for starters. 

He started to stand and then paused, eyeing Natasha again. It would be ridiculously rude, after she took the time and patience to hear him out and try to fix this problem, to just bolt the first chance he got. That...that wouldn’t be right.

Natasha smirked and rolled her eyes, shoving at his shoulder, “Oh go see Sam. You can grovel and thank me later.”

“Whatever you want,” he swore.

“Hmm, I’ll think on it and let you know,” she grinned. “Now go kiss and make up. Text me later so I know that you survived. No details though, remember, mental pictures that you don’t want Natasha to have.”

Steve felt himself grin and tugged her into a hug tight enough to draw a small noise from her before releasing her and getting to his feet. He paused again, though this time just long enough to press a light kiss to her cheek and made for the door. 

Using his bike, it didn’t take very long to make it to Sam’s. Less time than usual even, considering how many _minor_ traffic violations that he may or may not have committed in his urgency. Once he parked though, nerves rushed and nearly overwhelmed him. He drew a deep breath and set the bike’s kickstand before carefully climbing off of the bike.

Despite his rush to get to Sam’s house, Steve’s steps up to the door were slow and hesitant as his mind tried to formulate exactly what he needed to say. He just prayed that Sam would actually give him the opportunity to say what needed to be said. Steve stared at the front door for a long moment before exhaling slowly and raising his hand, knocking firmly on the wood.

Sam’s face registered surprise for a brief moment but Steve could see him wrestling it back into something neutral almost immediately. “Sam,” Steve greeted quietly, a little lost for a beat just at being back in front of him. “Listen, can I--can I talk to you? I-I-I don’t expect anything and-and afterward I’ll--I’ll go, I swear but you deserve a proper explanation.”

Steve held his breath, watching Sam stare wordlessly at him before stepping back, pulling the door further open in reluctant invitation. Steve followed him inside and closed the door gently behind him. They stood there in an awkward silence just looking at one another until Steve sighed and his posture dropped.

“I-,” Steve hesitated a moment as he gathered his words. “I owe you an apology, Sam. A massive one. Hurting you in any way, shape, or form is the last thing I’d ever mean to do. But I did. I-I didn’t realize it at first. I..I didn’t understand where our wires crossed.” Steve paused for a breath and to gauge Sam’s expression. “I’m sorry, Sam. What I _said_ and what I _meant_ were two very different things and...and honestly it took Nat explaining it to me for me to be able to see it.”

“What did you mean, then?” Sam asked cautiously. “‘Cause I gotta be honest, Steve. If the whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing is what you’re looking for then you’re looking in the wrong place. I can’t... _won’t_ play like that.”

“It’s not. God, it’s not,” Steve insisted, stressing the words. He grimaced and scratched his fingers through his hair distractedly. “I might’ve had another mix up with unfamiliar modern phrases? Sam, the thing is…” he frowned trying to gather his words and sighed when he struggled.

Sam seemed to take pity on his struggle, “Come on, old man, no sense having the big talks standing at the door. You know where the couch is.”

Steve gave a small, hesitant smile but followed him to the couch, remaining quiet until they were settled on opposite ends. He couldn’t help but eye the gaping space between them with distaste but brushed it off for the time being. Instead, he leaned forward, turning bodily towards the other man and frowning in thought. 

“You _are_ my best friend,” Steve began firmly, meeting Sam’s eyes evenly. “At the start and end of anything else, you’re my best friend, Sam. _But_ . It turns out that ‘friends with benefits’ didn’t quite mean what I thought it meant. What I _thought_ it meant, what I _want_ with you is my best friend in _everything._ Up to and including the physical.”

Hesitantly, Steve shifted over closer to Sam, watching his expression for any indication that he should stop. When none came, he caught one of Sam’s hands cradled it between both of his own. “This... _you_ were never to ‘scratch an itch’ or whatever the hell people phrase it. That’s-That’s not-That wasn’t ever what this was. Not-Not to me.”

He could feel some of the tightly wound, defensive tension begin to drain from the man beside him and he met Sam’s dark gaze evenly, letting him see whatever it was he might be looking for. Sam laughed, sharp and disbelieving, and Steve felt his heart clench, wondering if he wasn’t facing rejection from the same man twice in the same week.

“We have _got_ to get you caught up on modern terminology,” Sam groaned, using the hand not held in Steve’s to wipe over his face in exasperation. He was quiet and thoughtful for a moment before tilting his head to look at Steve once again. “That’s what you want?”

It was Steve’s turn to huff a slight laugh of disbelief, “Are you kidding? Sam, that’s where I thought we were heading anyway. It’s what I was trying to say, granted I messed that all to hell. That’s _all_ I’ve wanted. I’m kinda…” Steve smiled a little wryly and shook his head. “No, not kinda. There’s no ‘kinda’ about it. I’ve been gone on you since day one.” 

Sam quirked a smile and the remaining tension eased from his frame. He dropped his eyes to where their hands folded together and adjusted his until their fingers were laced together familiarly. “Only you, Rogers. Only you would somehow mix up the ‘label’ talk with a fuck buddy talk.”

Steve ducked his head sheepishly, feeling himself flush but shrugged, “Yeah. ‘Adorably clueless at the best of times’ is how Natasha phrased it.”

“She’s not wrong,” Sam laughed, smiling that full smile that always caused a skipped beat in Steve’s chest.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Steve said quietly after a beat.

“Yeah, I know,” Sam nodded. He tugged at their linked hands, “Come here.”

Steve shifted closer, eagerly meeting Sam midway as their lips met. Light, sweet, and chaste at first. Sam’s fingertips ghosted over his cheek on their way to sink into his hair, tugging lightly as he coaxed Steve’s lips apart with teasing licks. Steve groaned softly into the kiss, raising his hands bracingly when Sam shifted from his place on the couch to settle astride his lap. 

“Let me make it up to you?” Steve pulled back from the kiss just far enough to speak, lips brushing with the words. At Sam’s answering grin, Steve caught his lips again and shifted, tipping them back until he could press him firmly into the couch cushions. 

Steve learned another new modern term that night, too. He couldn’t help but wonder what other occasions he would have to follow up a disagreement with make up sex.


End file.
